


more than words

by statichearts



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statichearts/pseuds/statichearts
Summary: based on mickey and ian meeting in third grade over a borrowed pencil, with an added soulmates twist
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 14
Kudos: 191





	more than words

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything for these two in years but with the new content and a whirlwind of ideas, this came to be. fingers crossed I can bring myself to write more.
> 
> completely inspired by a tweet by @littlemilkyvich so shoutout to her

Ian never understood what it was all supposed to mean. 

Fiona's words were scrawled, angry and red, hidden under her left sleeve almost every hour of the day. She never let Ian get a close look at them, told him they didn't mean anything. At sixteen, Fiona already felt the idea of soulmates was a sham. A curse. 'Just look at our parents', she'd tell him. Two peas in a pod. A destructive pair of soulmates who only left disaster in their wake. That was nothing to aspire to. A soulmate didn't guarantee perfection, much less happiness. Words were simply that - words and Ian shouldn't dwell on uncertainty. 

Lip had a slightly different view. His older brother tried to map it out for him, sat with him on their brand new bunk beds in Aunt Ginger's old house and attempted to explain. Soulmates weren't so much a choice as they were a peek into his future. A little kid finding his Christmas presents early. You didn't always get what you expected but it was always something you wanted. When it came to sharing, Lip was more free wheeling with the words on his wrist, his thin white lines compared to Fiona's. 

'Yep, her sister.' 

It made less sense than Ian's but they were hardly as combative. Lip told him that he shouldn't wait around for them, whoever they might be. His soulmate would find him. Fiona was trying to protect him but Lip was trying to prepare him. A soulmate brought happiness, no matter if others agreed with what that manifested itself as. Frank and Monica were lucky - at least they had each other. So even at the tender age of nine, Ian found himself tracing the lines of the etchings on his upper arm. Lip had attempted to explain that as well. They lived in the south side of Chicago. It wasn't exactly unheard of to be told those words on any normal day but even so, Ian wasn't so much looking forward to being stabbed.

The leaves were just beginning to change when Ian started his first day at his new elementary school. After a good six months of moving from house to house, couch to couch, Ian was thankful to see the inside of a classroom again - to be with children his own age again. He didn't tell his siblings but fear had settled into his stomach long ago that maybe if he kept moving, his soulmate would never find him. If Frank kept chasing Monica with his barely functioning family in tow, then Ian would never hear the words he was forced to carry around. If it hadn't been for Fiona, that fear might have manifested itself but instead, here he was, bundled up in an old sweater of Lip's - the putrid green color making his locks stand out even more against his pale skin. 

After Lip had left him at the door, Ian made his way on his own, dodging kids in the hallway as they skirted past him to find their friends. It wasn't what he had pictured school to be in his mind. The desks were torn by the dragging of pencil lead, the lockers punctured by the blades of pocket knives, and the overcast sky left a grey hue over the paint faded walls. No one sat completely still, some of the other third graders yelling at the top of their lungs or swapping things underneath the desks while their teacher wrote lines of math across the chalkboard, already accepting of the fact that none of them were listening. Without thinking, Ian found the only empty desk in the room - a singular spot in the back of the classroom and with only one other person in the row. 

The boy who sat there had his boots squared on the floor, his dark hair swept up out of his face as he chewed on the end of a pencil, seemingly focused on something he was detailing into the wood. Ian couldn't take his eyes off him as he sat down, tossing his book bag on the ground to search around for a pencil of his own. Lip and Fiona had tried to gather supplies with the little money they had, finding odds and ends through the house to make do with. It was really Ian's luck that he didn't have what he needed the most. He turned out every pocket of the already tattered bag, pulling out lint and scraps of paper but came up empty. Again, his eyes fell on the boy beside him. 

"I - um, do you have a pencil I can borrow?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence as if he had never spoken before. A beat and the dark haired boy didn't speak, didn't even flinch at Ian's question, his pencil continuously mapping out the tail of a dinosaur. Ian blinked, his gaze shifting from the boy to his teacher who had turned to assign the first task of the day. The sensation of panic flared in him and he turned his body to face the other yet again. "Please?" Ian attempted, his eyes searching the face of his only companion. Whoever this boy was, he was unlike anyone Ian had ever seen before. His young face was covered in a thin film of dirt, his hands balled up into fists for no apparent reason, and his left eye was darkened around the edges, the skin slightly raised. Ian recognized it despite himself, remembering when Lip came home with them sometimes when he had trouble with the other teenagers on their block. 

He was resigned to not attempting again and was about to try someone else when he saw the boy finally turn his head up to look at him. His gaze rendered Ian speechless, the piercing blue of his eyes making him almost frightened. For a brief moment, Ian was sure he was done for. He was about to get beaten up on his first day, the perfect routine for a Gallagher but he was knocked from his thoughts when a pencil sailed through the gap and hit him square in the forehead. 

"I'll stab you if you talk to me again." 

The words were gruff and didn't seem to go along with the small but stocky frame of the boy they had come from but that wasn't what had Ian pausing. His hand instinctively covered the words on his arm through his sleeve, confusion wearing into his brows. He didn't know how to react and mindlessly grabbed the pencil, holding it as he stared wide eyed. The other had already gone back to his drawing, unphased by Ian except for his tense shoulders and a shift of his body to the left. 

Fear should have consumed him, hesitance at best but as Ian took the pencil in his grip and turned back to the front, something even better overtook him. His lips turned up into a soft smile, his cheeks rosy with the overwhelming feeling. He still didn't know what this meant, what he was supposed to do, but that didn't stop Ian from letting the subtle hint of hope take residence in his chest. It clouded his thoughts, kept him in a haze, up until the bell rang and he was suddenly brought back to earth. Everyone around them was shuffling to take off for the day while the desk next to his was vacated sooner rather than later, the dark haired boy dragging only his feet as he left. It took Ian a whole minute before following after him, a trail of thoughts telling him this was a bad idea. 

The likelihood of him getting beaten up was now much higher and yet, he kept walking. Something inside of Ian unflinching in the face of whatever unknown territory he was moving into. It wasn't like him to be so forthcoming, to be anything if not protective of himself, but by the time the pair had reached the fence separating the school from the rest of the south side, Ian had felt like he'd made up his mind. In the distance, the boy had stopped, his hands warming up his bare arms as he stood, eventually being joined by a girl in the grade below them. If Ian didn't know any better, he might have thought they were twins, the same dark hair and the same imposing bruises. The itch to approach them grew in his chest but before Ian had the chance to blink, the pair was joined by an older man, much tougher looking than Frank. The man stared at the siblings for a moment before lighting a cigarette, the end of it dangling from his lips as he pushed the boy to get him to start walking.

"See something interesting?" Lip spoke out from behind Ian, startling him enough to jump. 

Lip laughed as he put a hand on Ian's shoulder, gently guiding him away from the building. "Jumpy, huh? Didn't know I was that scary." His brother's joking words calmed Ian down, brought him back to reality as they headed in the opposite direction of where the other family had gone. Every few steps and Ian glanced back over his shoulder in a sad attempt to see them, hoping maybe they lived on the same block but all he got was flashes of other students, cars, and rolling leaves across the pavement. "Hey." Lip called out to him again, ruffling his hair as they turned onto their street. "You learn anything fun in school today?"

The question made Ian pause, his lips turning up into that silly sort of grin he had been wearing for most of the day. He thought back to blue eyes and dark hair, shaking his head. Maybe it was nothing for now. Maybe he was wrong and he'd heard him wrong, made it up in his mind. Still, it did nothing to quell the lightness in his chest as he answered his brother.

"No, nothing. It was pretty boring."


End file.
